


Local Twink Feels a New Sensation

by Atqueinstupracaballum



Category: The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: But thats what he thinks he does, I hesitate to call what Jekyll does here 'fallling in love', It was only a kiss on the head but still, Jekyll is a horny bastard, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, One-Sided Attraction, Pre-Canon, Sickfic, That's one hell of a ego you got there buddy, The boys are in Uni, Unrequited Crush, creepy inner monologuing, what are you gonna do about it?, yeah i slipped in a line from the musical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24728311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atqueinstupracaballum/pseuds/Atqueinstupracaballum
Summary: Love was a complicated, dangerous thing, too dangerous for a man in Jekyll's position to associate himself with.
Relationships: Henry Jekyll/Gabriel John Utterson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Local Twink Feels a New Sensation

**Author's Note:**

> I sat down to write a second part to my last Jekyll and Utterson story but instead I ended up with this.
> 
> (apologies for any capitalization errors. I fought with my laptop keyboard and the keyboard won.)  
> (apologies for any other errors. Dyslexia is a bitch that doesn't go down without a fight.)

Henry Jekyll had thoroughly assured himself that he was in no way shape or form in love with Gabriel John Utterson, that what he felt under his collar was the shallow shades of attraction, of wicked greed of the flesh, paired with a comfortable friendship. Love was a complicated, dangerous thing, too dangerous for a man in Jekyll's position to associate himself with. Lust could be shoved under the rug of the soul come morning. Lust could be hidden. Love could only be suffered through.

Henry Jekyll thought he, with his intellect, was above falling in love.

...

  
"Lanyon! Damn it Lanyon open your ears a moment!" Nothing came of Henry Jekyll's plea. Lanyon remained deaf to him and his quick approach. This called for desperate measures, then. "Lanyon! Hold! Be not so _Hastie_!" The short, red-faced doctor in training turned rather violently, as though stung, to see Henry Jekyll rushing at him, evading other students and teachers in the midst of the densely packed crowd. It was not a sight to comfort the senses. 

" _By God- I-_ what is it Jekyll? should you not be-" Had he not been cut off, Lanyon would have pointed out the very valid criticism that Jekyll ought to be halfway across campus by now for his next class, not here, assaulting him with puns.

"Listen, I must ask you this. What of Utterson? I have seen him in none of our classes. Do you know where he has gone off to? Has he told you anything?" Jekyll was breathing rather hard. He was the spitting image of health and youth, but darting through a crowd of British Uni students was a sport of its own.

"Oh, I had thought you would know by now." Lanyon had his brow a little raised as he spoke, as though Jekyll was asking about the obvious.

"Know what? The mans not dead is he?" All of his law classes would be so dreadfully boring without his packet of eye candy to get him through. At least, that is the excuse he gave himself for the dreadful pit in his stomach at the thought.

"Dead? No, not anything so extreme. But I should think he would not be opposed to death right now. I saw him early this morning at his request. seems he has a wicked cold. Anyhow, goodbye Jekyll, I must go...You ought to as well." with that he scurried off, leaving an unhappy Henry Jekyll in his wake.

En route to his class, which he would be dreadfully late for now, Jekyll chewed upon this information. Gabriel was sick. While not ideal, it was not so drastic as it could have been. Out of all the ailments that God could have smitten Gabriel with, a cold was not the worst. Taking these facts into consideration, why then was Jekyll's heart thumping in such a queer way, why did his stomach feel as though it had a couple of knots in it? The thought tempted him, at that moment, to ditch class altogether and check on his dear friend. How absurd! 

_What concern is it of mine? A man gets sick then and again...There is nothing whatsoever to fuss over...Get on with it Henry._

It would have been delightful to say that Jekyll had sorted himself out with that, that he did not fret over his ill friend anymore that day. That, however, would be an especially large lie. He had hardly sat down in his lecture hall when more thoughts of Utterson bombarded him like some impossible game of wack-a-mole. at one point he found himself offended to the highest degree, for why had Lanyon been called upon and not him? yes, Lanyon was practicing to become a medical doctor, and thus would know a thing or two about whatever was afflicting Utterson, and Jekyll was not...still, he was bitter nonetheless. He wondered for half a lecture period why he was not the first person his friend thought of when in bad straits, and how he could amend that error. Directly after that wave of anger had worked itself through, there came a plague of fright upon his head. A hundred and one 'what if' situations introduced themselves into Jekyll's unwilling company. If he was not afraid for his friend, then he was quite simply just restless. Time seemed to move excruciatingly slow. To say the least, the whack-a-mole game continued on, despite his best attempts, all the way until his last class of the day.

like a devil out of Hell's gates, he rushed at once to his friend's dorm, stopping only to satisfy his nearly crippling urge for an opium laced smoke. 

"Gabriel!" he cried, bursting forth into the room without more than one loud knock upon the door. He heard, admitted from his friend's bedroom, a sound of disgruntlement. This seemed promising to Jekyll, so he took liberties in bursting forth into that room with the same zeal. "Gabriel, my dear-" the endearment slipped out without him realizing. "Lanyon told me of your ailment. You look awful, my god! but how do you feel?"

Gabriel lay in bed, looking half alive, pale as the sheets below him, with all the looks of a man praying to enter the next Realm soon. It had frightened him quite a bit, the sudden entrance of a wild Henry Jekyll, though his face did not show it all that distinctly. After the initial shock, he had set his eyes on Henry with his classic 'not surprised...per se' expression set on his face.

"Jekyll..." he said, at last, voice hoarse. "What are you doing here?"

"What a question!" Jekyll could feel a certain hotness wash over his face. An uncomfortable current rolled down his spine, something dangerously akin to regret, for fear that Utterson perhaps did not wish him there. What was wrong with him? Embarrassment? Him? Never. Quite impossible. Unthinkable. The room was just warm and he had just run, that was all. "Did you expect me to stay at bay with the knowledge that my greatest friend was suffering away in his room? How low your opinion is of me!"

Utterson, after a set of particularly nasty coughs, responded with a slow: "I could infect you..." as if to accentuate his point he sneezed before groaning.

"oh nevermind that. Do you need anything? a drink perhaps, tea? Food? Really, I am at your service, Gabriel."

_...Since when was he at **anyone's** service?_

Gabriel gave him a somewhat skeptical look, offensively close to the expression he put on when Jekyll drank too much, before sighing and admitting that a glass of water would suit him nicely. It was during this menial task that Henry Jekyll was struck with a momentous idea. 

_Yes, yes, this is what it has been building to all along, of course, I am a genius. it was not pangs of fear or love -ack!-, as I dreaded, it was merely the forming of a scheme just out of reach. Until now. This is my moment, he is a damsel in distress, I - not Lanyon, I!- shall be the one to stay at his side, at his beck and call, and aid his recovery. I shall be a knight to my pretty damsel, yes, very good Henry, brilliant even. my charming bedside manners will soften up that exoskeleton of his, then I shall be closer than ever to my desire. My bedside manners must be proper so that later I might not be restrained to just the beside..._

his inner monolog was cut short by water spilling over his hand. he had poured his friend's water to excess in the glass. With a small curse, he took a sip from the glass to lower the gap between brim and liquid before embarking back to Utterson. With a flourish that did not lend well to his facade of strict heterosexuality, he gave the drink over to its owner.

"Thank you," sighed Gabriel, sampling his prize gratefully. "What did I miss today, from class? Do tell me."

"Ah, well, not all that much, nothing you can not catch up on in an hour or so..." truthfully Jekyll had not been paying all that much attention through a good deal of it -not because of any crush related anxieties, of course-, but he recalled what he could. though he talked partially through his hat, his voice never wavered, nor did his grin, and his shell of cheery confidence remained unbroken. "But come now, do not think about that mess," he chided sweetly afterward. "'tis not good for you in this state." He leaned a hip against the wall, arms crossed. He knew from others' reactions and compliments -and his own generous mental perception of himself- that the pose was an attractive one on him. "You must be awfully bored, laying here."

"Not really," responded Utterson, utterly unaffected by his attractive posing. "truthfully I have spent a great majority of the time sleeping."

"Ah, but that of course means you shall be up well into the night, dear friend, unless I endeavor to tire you out before you permanently..." the brilliant wording of his last statement caught up with him. "Damage your sleep schedule." Utterson did not even blink, only frowned.

"Really Henry, you need not do so much, though the sentiment is touching."

"But I must, Utterson, for I care a great deal about your wellbeing. How rotten I would be if I did not! Besides, I must touch someone's _sentiments._ " _if I must begin with sentiments, so be it._ "in any case, do you believe it to be some great chore for me to sit and entertain you whilst you lay, it is not, for you are so pleasant a man to bother."

"Hm," that was Uttersons version of a laugh. "tut tut. you are not a bother Henry. Do pull a chair up, you have been standing-" he coughed into a handkerchief two times before continued. "-far too long."

In his chest, Jekyll's heart did a very ungraceful flip. A soft warmth, unlike anything he had ever felt before spread down from the roots of his hair into his fluttering stomach. it was not the pound of carnal desire, no, this was a monstrous, knee-weakening, mass of...fuzziness? Suddenly, properly swallowing seemed more trouble then it was worth.

 _What is this? Is this death? No, death is cold, this is warm...warm death?_ All of these disjointed thoughts rattled about while Jekyll strove to find a chair and pull it up. There was only one thing his brain cells seemed willing to agree on and bleated repeatedly: Utterson was not bothered by him! An obscene amount of something akin to joy coursed through Jekyll. 

_Perhaps I should have heeded his warning about contagions..._ Despite the multiple disagreements and confusions taking place between mind, body, and soul, he reentered the bedroom, a chair with him, all smiles and lively countenances. 

"So, how would you like me to entertain you? what shall I talk of, or I could sing a ballad or two. How would that suit your fancy?" He said with all the laughter and mannerisms of a joke, yet: _If a ballad is what it takes to see that lovely hair of yours mused by my fingers, so be it, I shall sing you twenty-two. No more than that, though, I have my dignity._

"Not at all..." Utterson thought a moment before a flicker of recollection passed over him. "Have you read through that book I lent you? I very much would like to hear your opinion of it."

"Ah yes, yes I have read through most of it, I finished it last night in fact." He had not been doing anything of the sort last night, but that was neither here nor there. "Overall it was a captivating theological interpretation of..." and after that, he let his mouth pilot itself for awhile. within his conscious there were a hundred different things happening at once, none of which related to theology in any positive manner. For the rest of his not so brief review, he set about attempting to sort all of these thoughts and images out, to decode and simplify them away until a clear cut message rose above and clarified himself to himself.

Alas, he was fated to be denied that ideal clarification for some time more. It was not his fault though, he reckoned, for his dear friend became a horrid distraction. Of course, Utterson did not speak all that much during their discourses, nor purposefully or knowingly divert Jekyll off of his trains of thought. It was the lovely mechanics of the lawyer to be's face that did it. Specifically, the young student noted, as he spoke Gabriel seemed to hang on every word. It was not awe, Utterson was not a man to ogle. but it seemed as though Jekyll was being given a sort of special, keener attention. Each time he saw it a queer, unexplainable thrill shot through him like lightning, and inspired him to talk more if only to prolong the looks existence. 

Once more, to his utmost confusion, Henry Jekyll found himself stuck with that...fuzzy...feeling. 

Henry Jekyll decided he did not like feeling so fuzzy. It to was distracting and more often than not sent his mind further into disarray. 

Jekyll did manage to wear out his friend before too long. Utterson had gone to sleep quite in the middle of a particularly scientifically charged rant on Jekyll's part. Now, as he watched the slumbering man, whose face was smoothed over with peace, complexion a bit healthier, and admired with a light-headed sort of awe the gentle rise and fall of his friend's chest, it never occurred to him to take up his hat and coat and leave. Nor did it occur to him that it could be considered creepy, or improper, what he was doing and how much saliva was being produced whilst he did it. In a sort of happy daze, he sat for what seemed like pleasant centuries, looking fondly over his dear fellow. 

_How nice he looks, almost like a child, such an air of peace..._ His face was pinker then it had ever before been. Idly he wondered what it would be like to curl up next to Gabriel and go to sleep. Warm, surely, comfortable. _And those lips, how soft they look, especially parted in such a relaxed manner!_ He sat their ruminating in such thoughts for a moment longer before rising at last. His stomach had been growling at him for some time to eat, though he had only just noticed. Even as he slipped on his greatcoat, he could not help but nervously glance back to his friend's prone figure. _Would he be ok?_ he wondered. _What if he needed something before morning? What if this cold of his worsened? How awful that would be...Perhaps I should stay...No, damned fool, what would that look like? But..._ His hat was on his head now, one glove on and the other in hand, yet he stopped again, throwing a pitying look to Utterson. With a forlorn sigh, he stepped to the side of his friend. 

"Sleep well, will you not, for your dear wicked Henry Jekyll?" before he could register exactly what he had done he bowed to lower a gentle kiss against the other man's fevered head. "I shall come in the morning to check in on you." The only thing he remembered after that was the pounding of his own heart, a swirl of colors, and the tingle that lingered still upon his lips. 

The cold air of the night stirred him back to reality. To say that he had a few questions about his own conduct in the past few hours would be a grievous understatement. It was all quite mysterious, like looking back on one's own fever dream, or drunken undertakings. Nonetheless, with furrowed brows and alarm bells drolling in his mind, he picked at the questions as he walked. 

It took him ten minutes, but finally, it occurred to him that he may, hypothetically, perhaps, be a _little_ in love with Gabriel John Utterson. 

This alone forced him to a halt abruptly in the street, like a man who had seen horrors. Pale, mortification reading clear in his expression, Jekyll stood with only one thought echoing in his mind like a gunshot in a dark cavern. 

**_bloody fucking hell._ **


End file.
